I was lucky enough to be born at a place which was in close proximity to my grandmother’s. My grandmother had some quiet precise observations about life that made her quiet famous in entire Nutan Pally. When Big rohu and katla fishes went missing regularly from grandfather’s well-maintained pond and much hullaballoos were made about it, she said to her husband, ‘The bigs are gone. Smalls are left. For our age small fishes are prescribed. Big fishes are proscribed. The fish stealers are actually our well-wishers.’ Grandfather fell to wild laugh that seemed to appreciate each of her words. When someone of her relations was in a very bad mood and threw tantrums, she would say, ‘The Creator gives us faces not to make faces.’ As I always wore a very serious face to get myself counted among my other cousins, she advised me politely, ‘A smile costs nothing but is worth a feel of a life in heaven.’ Really, a simple innocent smile may not be an answer to life’s myriad problems, but it really lightens up the pain.
I carried a side bag of Shantiniketoni style in my youth. I bought that bag from poush mela from a handicrafts stall of Viswavarati’s students. That bag had an uncanny habit of entangling whatever that happened to pass it. So the bag carried a perambulator with a child sitting in and a harried woman pulling it without exercising any control. Once the bag dragged a mod woman quite a distance as it hooked a ring of keys that was knotted with her sari – end. I don’t know if its activities were endorsed by Gurudev Tagore as his grave face with eyes stiffly closed was stitched quite neatly on the bag.
Earlier I could sing a little when my voice permitted. Later as I entered into teaching profession my voice got damaged a great deal. Now when I wish to sing, my voice croaks. But I like to sing loudly and happily particularly when I hear songs on YouTube. As I open my voice, Reba di, mother’s attendant, thinks I have fallen sick and so rushes up to me. Mala di, the cook, in great anxiety cannot manage the utensils she cooks in and kodais are dropped and they roll down bit hobblingly to the room next to kitchen until they crash against a dado of wall with an elaborate noise. Local dogs find the time propitious to bark on. A grazing cow meanwhile gets inspired to give a thrustful low. All these are enough to provoke a neighbouring child to give his lungful with a no-holds-barred cry as his mother faces a tough time to get him back to his home task. I feel contented to find the grand impact of my song and decide to be on song as long as I live. Bear with me, please! I say with a grin.